Hallelujah
by Lywinis
Summary: Sebastian comes to warn Hawke about something, and completely loses track of what he was talking about.  Sebastian/F!Hawke, dream sequence  Rated M for content. Spoilers for the end of chapters 1/2 of Dragon Age II.


Hallelujah

A Dragon Age 2 Fanfiction

by Lywinis

"Your friendship with that maleficar will only bring you trouble, Hawke." The prince's eyes held her own, the bright blue seeming to sear into hers. She locked her gaze with his, knowing that he respected her and her opinions. She would not be intimidated by his holier-than-thou attitude. She rolled her shoulders, the old argument already making her weary.

"Sebastian, Anders is my friend and has stood by me nearly my entire time in Kirkwall. You cannot think that he would betray my trust after years of helping me to get where I am now." She gestured around herself at the richly appointed room that was her sanctuary in the Amell family home. He had come to see her about this, abandoning his post at the Chantry and his discussion with the Grand Cleric about matters of faith, so this was important to him. She would hear him out, at least. She let out a breath and offered him a seat in one of the richly-embroidered chairs near the fire, taking her own customary seat.

He was standing, hands clasped behind his back in a kind of military parade rest, but at her invitation, he relaxed, sinking into the plush chair with the creaking of his harness and leaning back. He took his eyes from hers and looked into the crackling blaze for a moment.

"I told myself this was a bad idea, you know." His brogue seemed thicker now than she had ever heard it, and she swallowed hard at the tingle that shot up her spine. She was grateful he wasn't looking at her. His hands were steepled in front of his face, and she could not help but notice how rough his hands looked: strong, square-tipped fingers that were nicked with scars from long practice with a bow. She had been surprised to find out he was an ambidextrous shot, but his skill was unquestioned when she had seen him in action.

"Why? Sebastian, I make an effort to listen to what everyone has to say, you know that."

"That's just it. You listen, and you make a decision based on how you think everyone would best get along. There's no doing that with Anders. He will not be looking out for your best interests, and he will only be out to further his own ends."

At this, she forgot all about Sebastian as a man. Anger was etched on her features as she leaped to her feet and began to pace the room in agitation. "And how does coming to see me when my mother was brutally murdered constitute him looking out for his own interests? How does helping my brother become a Grey Warden when the darkspawn taint would have killed him give him any advantage?"

Sebastian was on his feet then, towering over her. He grabbed her shoulder and spun her to face him and one calloused hand held her chin to force her to look at him. She had never been that close to him before, and her pulse sped up as his eyes narrowed at her.

"You don't see how that gives him an advantage? If he ever got into any sort of trouble, you think he would not call in those favors? Even if it meant your destruction?" Blue eyes as hard as stone softened as he looked at her, and his throat worked as he swallowed audibly. "If harm came to you, I could never forgive myself."

They were standing so close to each other she could feel his breath on her skin. That tingle shot back down her spine, and his scent, leather and metal and splintered wood made her want to bury her nose in the exposed leather shoulder of his jerkin and inhale. He still had hold of her, and he had to see how her pulse jumped in her neck. His own pulse seemed to be as jumpy as hers, because the fingers that held her seemed unusually shaky for an archer of such precision. It lasted for an eternity, neither seeming willing to break contact.

"Sebastian." Her voice was low and wavering, surprising her.

"Oh, Maker, forgive me." His lips met hers with slow passion, and her eyes slid shut involuntarily. His tongue delved into her mouth as he caught her by surprise, the kiss slow and sweet. Warmth started in Hawke's face, traveling down her neck and pooling between her thighs like liquid gold. His hand slid from her arm to her hip, drawing her closer to him with a possessive growl that rumbled from his chest as his other hand snaked up, tangling itself in Hawke's short hair and giving a rough tug that could mean only one thing between a man and a woman. He wanted her, and he was going to claim her.

Her hands moved to the chest plate of his harness, tugging in frustration as she tried to find the buckles blindly. He broke the kiss, their breath coming in short gasps as they tried to renegotiate whatever this was between them. Blue eyes were suddenly uncertain as her hands toyed with the buckle that kept his quiver strapped firmly between his shoulders.

"I…I should…" Sebastian seemed to have a hard time catching his breath, or even getting a whole sentence out. His eyes darted to hers, the bright blue darkened with want as she ran her tongue nervously across her suddenly dry lips.

"Go? After that?" Hawke bit her lower lip in apprehension, but Sebastian shook his head.

"No…I should get this armor off. That can't have been comfortable for you. Unless you'd rather I go?" His brow arched with the question, and she felt herself grin at his complete one-eighty from possessive man to unsure chantry boy.

"Not now, your highness. If you tried to leave, I think I would have to follow you back to your bunk in the Chantry after that. If anything, that would scandalize the sisters, and we can't have that." She was rewarded with a flush coupled with a hungry look as he undid the large strap that held his quiver and bow in place. He draped it over the chair, aware that she was watching him like her namesake now, more still than he had ever seen her.

The buckles that connected his breast and back plate were harder to reach, and Hawke stepped forward, her long fingers nimble on the straps as she aided him. The breast plate came loose and he shrugged out of it, his scale and leather under tunic swaying with his movements. Hawke slid her hands up the hardened leather until she touched the warm skin of his neck, and he shivered. Standing on tiptoe, she placed a kiss where his earlobe met his jaw, her tongue flicking out to tease the skin and was rewarded with his shuddering intake of breath. She smiled at him before backing away to help him with his vambrace and rerebrace that protected his left arm. These were also placed neatly in the chair, although his hands shook more than before.

This was torture for her. She had not expected him to come to her like this, fully armored, but she decided to go with it, her hands trailing down his chest to undo the decorative belt he wore. She struggled with the buckle before growling in frustration at him and pointing at it. He gave a throaty chuckle and showed her the hidden release set in the left eye of the carved silverite relief on his belt. The chuckle died when she sank to her knees before him, her breath catching as well as she leaned around his legs to undo the greaves he wore. He gave a small groan of frustration as she worked the buckles while pressed firmly against his leg, but she merely smiled up at him and took her time, now that she knew it was bothering him as much as it did her, perhaps even more.

She pressed her long fingers against the back of his knee and was pleased to hear his breathing quicken. She massaged the spot gently, but his patience had been worn to the breaking point. He lifted her to stand before him, his strength surprising. His lips met hers with much more fervor than before, and his hands now roamed freely, one stroking down her back to squeeze her rump as the other tangled itself in her hair again. She closed her eyes and let him explore the outer curve of her lips, opening them with a muffled whimper when he nipped at them. Her hands began to roam, undoing the small buckles that held his jerkin closed. The squared tips of his fingers delved below the curve of her buttocks until he found her center, warm and moist even through her smallclothes. She whimpered against his mouth and he seemed delighted when she bucked against his hand.

"Hush now, sweetling, or you'll undo me before we even start." His voice was husky and his brogue sent another shiver through her, her skin rippling into gooseflesh under the robe she wore. He dropped kisses along the length of her jaw, moving to her neck as she tipped her head to the side to allow him access. She tugged on his jerkin, the scale clattering softly in the quiet room.

"You are still overdressed, Sebastian." Her eyes flicked from his chest to his face, the warmth in her belly urging her on. Her hands moved up and gave a gentle pull on the brown locks of his hair that turned up in a curl at the base of his neck. "You should fix that."

He gave a small smirk and undid the last buckle she had missed, shrugging out of the scale and leather coat and laying it across the chair. His undershirt was soft from repeated washings, and her hands slipped inside it to explore the warm flesh beneath. The undershirt was a simple design, with a drawstring throat closure that she pushed aside so she could trace his sternum with her lips. His hands tightened on her shoulders, and finally divested of all of his armor, he pulled her to him and she could feel the hard press of his erection against her belly.

The warmth of her insides became an inferno and she kissed him again, tugging the undershirt out of his breeches. He groaned as she moved against him, the friction of their clothing delicious torture that would be remedied soon enough. He pulled his shirt over his head and managed to kick one boot off while she busied herself with kissing his shoulders and neck. He stumbled backward toward the bed at her insistent push, kicking off his other boot as he went.

He managed to sit on the edge of the bed without losing contact with her, but as he did, she stepped back, her body framed by the fire that flickered in the grate. She wore only her house robes and her boots. The boots were kicked off in short order, but she slipped the silken robe off her shoulders and let it pool at her feet, clothed now only in flickering shadows and her smalls. He was propped on his elbows watching her, his arousal evident. When he licked his lips she lost all sense of modesty and she moved to stand in front of him. He rose off his elbows and moved to touch her, his lips leaving kisses along her belly and brushing just underneath her breasts. Her hands snaked into his hair, tugging gently in encouragement, and she stood straddling his knees while he ministered to her torso.

He was more diligent than any sworn member of the Chantry had any right to be, his kisses and nibbles and licks sending curls of pleasure to her core. He had certainly never learned this from a lay sister, or so she hoped. (If he had, she really, _really_ needed to see about joining the Chantry.) His fingertips trailed up and down her back in little circles, skimming down and flirting with the ties of her smalls but never quite getting there as he trailed kisses to her bellybutton and back up. One hand slipped around to her front and trailed teasingly along her inner thigh, coming close enough to her sex that she whimpered and tried to push herself into his hand, but he clucked his tongue at her and moved his hands away.

Two could play at that game. Hawke let a slow smile cross her face as she pushed him back onto the bed, his eyes widening as she straddled him more aggressively. Her aching loins pressed against him, and his hips bucked against his will. Her smile was positively wicked as she allowed him to scoot backward enough to get comfortable. He lay back against the pillows, jaw twitching as he watched her crawl toward him, her breasts swaying with the movement. She paused at the ties of his trousers, her eyes flicking up at him to make sure he was watching.

She had his attention.

She took the leather tie in her teeth and tugged; the loose knot he had tied in them came undone with agonizing slowness. His breathing was ragged, and blue eyes followed her every movement with rapt attention as she undid the ties. His hands were fisted in the coverlet, and it seemed to be a strain for him to let her do what she wanted. Her delicate fingers pulled on the waistband of his trousers, and he obliged her by lifting his hips slightly so she could slide them off far enough for him to kick them onto the floor. She could see how he strained against his smalls, and she crawled the rest of the way up his body so that she was straddling his hips again. She knew he could feel her through his smallclothes, and she rolled her hips downward and sent him bucking against her in delicious friction.

Sebastian's hands unfisted from the coverlet and gripped her hips before she could do it again, and his thumbs swept upward, her eyes widening as he retaliated, pressing himself against her.

"Ngh…" Her eyes half closed and she froze, her sex throbbing. "Sebastian." It was no more than a whimper, but it seemed to please him, because one hand lifted from her hips and quested down slowly to that wet heat she had been stoking for some time. One finger slid aside her smalls as she trembled above him, giving a small sob of want as his thumb found her bud and pressed a slow, searing circle around the tender flesh as one of his fingers slipped its way inside her.

"Look at me," he instructed. She had been caught by his fingers, and her head had been tilted back as she had cried out, but she focused on him now. She bit her lip as he increased his ministrations, another finger joining the first as his thumb found a pleasing and erratic rhythm. "That's it. Look at me, sweetling. I want to see you come."

She gasped as her molten nethers gave way to his fingers, the muscles clenching themselves around his fingers as he worked them in a slow stroking motion. His other hand kept her from bucking too hard, but the prince was adamant and she soon felt the trembling build of her release as she straddled him. She quivered, feeling herself about to peak when the fingers were withdrawn. Both of his hands swept up her ribcage, her breasts, and over the sensitive flesh of her nipples before she could protest, and Sebastian turned the tables, surging upwards as he flipped them expertly so he was resting on his forearms above her. His gaze was intense as he drank her in before his head dipped down to suckle at one of her nipples. His tongue laved a path around it, and his breath caused a ripple of goose bumps as she squirmed underneath him. He caught her wrists easily in one hand and held them above her head as he continued, trailing a line of kisses down her belly before reaching the ties of her smalls. They came loose with a flick of his wrist, and his thumb found the rhythm on her aching flesh once more as her back arched like a bow.

"Sebastian, please!" She all but begged him as he continued to torture her.

"Please what, sweetling?" Sebastian's voice was a growling purr now, and he breathed heavily into her ear, his voice sending another jolt of pleasure through her. "Tell me what you want."

"I – ah! – want you," her voice was thin with need, and all she could do was look at him helplessly.

"You want me to take you?" he growled.

"Yes."

"You want me inside you?" His thumb rotated around her nub once again, and she gave a small wail.

"Yes!"

"Tell me you want me to make love to you, sweetling." Blue eyes were locked on her, searching her face.

"Make love to me, Sebastian. Please!" She wiggled her hips against him in a helpless gesture. He gave a low groan and relented, his smalls disappearing with that same flick of the wrist as his length slid up against the heat of her. She arched against him, crying out, and it seemed he could take it no longer. He hilted himself into her in one swift motion, the throbbing fullness of it making Hawke gasp and flex her hips as he tried to control his breathing.

He pulled out and drove forward again, setting a pace that could only be described as desperate as he bucked against the woman in his arms who was nearly delirious from want. She felt her inner muscles clutch at him, wanting all of him at once. His eyes watched her, and his lips moved with small reverences as he paid homage to her body.

"My sweetling, you are mine. Mine." This was his mantra. His voice in her ear drove her quickly back up to her peak again, and stars shattered behind her eyes. She gave voice to a keening cry as she went over the edge, oblivious to his shout as he followed behind her. He bit at the juncture of her neck and shoulder, muffling his own release as he thrust hard into her in an erratic frenzy. He slowed and finally stopped as he spent himself inside her, balancing himself on shaking forearms before sliding to the side to lie next to her.

She turned to him and curled against his chest, yawning in sated pleasure. He chuckled and drew the covers over them both, tucking her into the crook of his arm as she drifted off to sleep. He pressed a kiss to her temple, a hand lazily grasping her hip in total possession.

"You are mine now, and do not forget it."

* * *

Hawke awoke from the dream, wet and aching, her hands already in her smalls as she felt the want of being filled but not actually being sated come over her. She fell back against her pillow with a frustrated sigh before getting up and moving to her wash stand. She splashed water on her face and neck, trying to rid herself of the lingering effects of her need. She paused as she regarded her face in the mirror, noticing a bruise that started right where the juncture of her neck and shoulder…

Calloused, square-tipped fingers slid across her hips from behind, startling her, and she backed into him, clad only in his trousers and shirt. Sebastian smirked at her from the mirror, and she arched into him, her eyes already clouded with the want of him.

"If this is the welcome I get every time, I should stay late at copying manuscripts more often," he commented as she tugged him toward the bed. She grinned wickedly at him and pushed him back onto the pillows.

"You won't believe the dream I just had."

The End

* * *

A/N: Totally outing myself on the kinkmeme, but I wrote this for the prompt F!Hawke/Sebastian dreams. "Since we can't get into Seb's pants in game, what if Lady Hawke had a dream about the prince? She dreams of him screwing her silly. I'd love to see a Dom! Sebastian... That sounds so hot for some reason. Any other kink I'd up for writer anon."

Hope you enjoyed. The ending is wishful thinking on my part, although Anders is still my favorite.


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